


Supertoys Last All Summer Long

by AngGriffen



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-16
Updated: 2007-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngGriffen/pseuds/AngGriffen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>we can rebuild them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supertoys Last All Summer Long

**Author's Note:**

> set during the Cleveland Indians 2005 season.

_I should have gone home and gone fishing instead_ , Jake Westbrook thought for the seventh time in as many days. Not that lazing around on a ship in the Caribbean this time of year wasn't appealing in its way, but some of the guys spent the days hovered over Sizemore's laptop, taking advantage of the wi-fi connection to watch the game.

Westbrook couldn't resist peering over Broussard's shoulder as he passed the three men squeezed in tight to get a good view of the screen and wincing when he saw the pitcher on the mound. "Jeez, you guys. How can you watch this? 'Sfreaky."

Blake's eyes shifted from the screen over to look at Westbrook regretfully, eyebrows raised slightly. They hardly ever showed the right fielder on television anyway. It was probably less weird for him.

"It's sort of cool," Broussard said, not looking away, words trailing over his shoulder back to Westbrook. His posture picked up a little as on the screen Teahan grounded into a double-play, short to second to first, and when the camera focused in on the first baseman, Broussard's mouth twitched slightly.

"So what's up with the experimental facial hair?" Westbrook asked, gesturing to the first baseman, which got him a snort from Boone.

"It's more believable that way."

Broussard finally tore his eyes away from the screen to glance back at Westbrook, and he said something about it being perceived as 'in-character,' which was a weird enough thing to say, but more so from Broussard.

"It's still weird watching yourself play live," Westbrook said, because it _was_.

"It's not like it's actually _us_ ," Boone said. "If it was, we'd be in Kansas City right now." Boone was obviously much happier to be on the deck of a ship off the coast of Bermuda than in Missouri right now.

And it wasn't like Westbrook didn't _know_ it wasn't _them_ , but it was still disconcerting. "I just don't get _why_." They knew he meant why they were watching it, not why it happened, because that was pretty obvious.

"I just don't get why they couldn't program me to _hit_ ," Broussard replied, the sulk in his voice apparent.

"Because then everyone would know it wasn't you," Boone answered, which got him an elbow to the side from Blake.

Westbrook reached over and grabbed a beer from the table next to Boone, and left the three to their masochistic ritual. The sun was bright and the ocean sparkled as it sprawled out to eternity. He leaned on the railing of the ship and stared out over the water, and even if it wasn't really them, the Indians were a winning team now.

He blinked into the glare of the sun, and remembered that Boone had really shitty taste in beer.

Later, he decided, he'd go see what Cliff was up to.


End file.
